Evolution
by dragonkeeper19600
Summary: It's millions of years in the past, and the Decepticons and Autobots are at the height of their war. The prize: A race of tiny Minicons, capable of granting them incredible power. But the truth behind these weapons is something no one could predict...
1. Chapter 1

**Evolution**

_Long ago, in a void of darkness, there lived a demon with power and might such as could not be comprehended. The demon had a single wish. And that wish was to live in an existence that contained nothing but himself, to float forever in oblivion with no other living creature or matter. To live in nothingness forever. And he had the power to make it so. He could destroy everything. _

_But he saw into the core of everything, and he knew that there was one race that could stand in his way, who were themselves blessed with great power. The power to destroy him. _

_So he hatched a sinister plan that would set in motion the path to their destruction. Within their home world, a world which he knew very well, he planted a tumor containing his essence. For millennia, it festered and grew, spreading deep within. And when the time came that a great war swept over the land, the tumor gave rise to a race of beings, born from his very cells. And it was these beings who would lead to their destruction. He knew they could not resist the power that they held, the sweet temptation to destroy their enemies, to destroy each other._

_And so, the spawn of the demon spread among them, waiting…_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

High up in the sentry tower, a young Autobot was peering dutifully into a pair of bright metal binoculars, whose glass front lit with a bright array of colored lights. He scanned the war-torn horizon, never blinking but seeing nothing. A faint breeze was playing across the ravaged cityscape. It blew in through the window, directly into the Autobot's face. He frowned slightly. That was no good. If there was any smoke, it would blow directly into the Autobots' faces.

"Hey, there Hot Shot," a voice in his ear said. "See anything?"

Hot Shot jumped slightly, then sighed, berating himself for his skittishness. He answered his comlink. "No, nothing," he said. "Not a 'Con for miles."

"Well, keep your eyes peeled," the voice said. "They'll be here. Count on it. Today's your lucky day, Rookie. You'll finally get to see some action."

"Yeah," said Hot Shot grinning, still keeping his gaze locked through the binoculars. He knew the war was no laughing matter. It was serious business and a terrible waste and blah blah blah, but the truth was, he was eager to see some "action." Oh, sure, he had been in a few skirmishes, an occasional scuffle here and there, most of which involved blindly sending shots into a wall of smoke, but he had never been in a legitimate battle and had never, ever come face to face with a 'Con.

But today, the Autobots had received intelligence, from a "very reliable source" that Optimus was keeping quiet about, that the Decepticons would be attacking the city of Kaon today. And Hot Shot was practically bristling, ready to finally prove himself on the battlefield. Even if he didn't have a…

"Hey, kid, you still there?" the voice suddenly demanded, cutting off Hot Shot's thoughts. Hot Shot blinked and tried to clear his head.

"Uh, I'm sorry, what?" he asked, a little embarrassed.

"Wake up, Hot Shot! Sheesh, I can't afford to babysit you today."

Hot Shot cringed inwardly and almost opened his mouth to retort, but he swallowed his comment and refocused his attention on the horizon. He was determined to be mature, to not be "the rookie" today.

"Sorry, Jetfire," said Hot Shot politely, though he could not stop a grudging tone from sounding in his words. "What were you saying?"

"I said, keep your optics on the skies. The Seekers are the fastest, and the first wave will always come from the air."

"I know that," said Hot Shot quickly. But he had not really been watching the skies, and he moved his gaze upward to the vault of stars, feeling his cheeks burn.

"Are you sure you're prepared for this?" Jetfire said, sounding skeptical. "This isn't a game you know. This is war. You could die today."

Hot Shot rolled his eyes. He had heard this particular lecture many times before, and hearing it the day of, as he was waiting in the observatory for the impending army, was a little late to get him to change his mind. "You could, too," he reminded Jetfire.

Jetfire snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, kid. The 'Cons won't know what hit 'em when I'm through with them."

Hot Shot laughed, and suddenly the roles of the sensible one and the cocky fighter were reversed. "Get going," he said. "But make sure you leave a Decepticon or two for us, alright?"

"No promises," laughed Jetfire, and the link cut off.

"Wave one, are you ready?"

"Completely. We're awaiting your signal."

"Roger that. Six Shot out."

Starscream terminated the link on his comlink and stared up at the sky. He felt the wind blowing against his back. Against his wings. It was a good breeze, perfect for today. With any luck, the city of Kaon would soon be theirs.

"Well, Starscream?" an arrogant voice asked. "Are we heading out or what?"

Starscream let out a sound that may have been a sigh or a groan and turned to the left to face his wing mate. He knew who it was of course. The one who always made it a point to make everything difficult for him.

"No Skywarp, not yet," he snapped. "If it was time, we'd already be in the air."

"Well, terrific," sneered Skywarp, his arms folded in front of his chest. "And how much longer are we supposed to sit here, anyway?"

"I don't know," Starscream answered shortly. "Be patient." He knew it was no good saying this even as he said it. There were a great many things his cousin was not, and one of those things was "patient." Another was "pleasant to be around."

"Tch," Skywarp hissed through his teeth.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Nothing…"

"Hey," said another voice, from the right this time. It was Thundercracker, and he didn't look nearly as confident as Skywarp was acting. He looked up at Starscream, clearly anxious. "Do y'all reckon the Autobots know we're coming?"

Skywarp scoffed. "Not likely. Those idiots can barely tell their tailpipes from their optics. How are they supposed to know when we're going to frag them into dust?"

"They might know," said Starscream quietly but sternly. "You should never discount that possibility."

"Teacher's pet," snarled Skywarp. "Always know better than we do, don't you Starscream?"

"Oh, will you shut up?" Starscream snapped. Secretly, though, he thought that perhaps Skywarp was doing him a favor, pissing him off like this. It would get him frustrated and make it all the more easier to scrap the Autobots.

Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker formed a team of Seekers, the best in the entire Decepticon army. And since there were no Seekers with the Autobots, that made them the best on the entire planet. They even resembled each other. The same broad wings, the same metallic shine, the same fine features. Skywarp looked slightly different, with a large dorsal fin projecting from the top of his head, but otherwise, the three could have been triplets. With Starscream's red and white contrasting with Thundercracker's blue and red and Skywarp's black, white, and purple, their color schemes were the only immediate difference.

Well, their color schemes and personalities.

Starscream was their leader and had been their leader for many years. Though the ranks of the Decepticons had shifted and changed many times, and though Starscream and considerably risen in favor since joining, the same basic group of three had never drifted apart. Since Skywarp was Starscream's cousin, Starscream was sometimes accused of nepotism. As if being related to someone was a reason to want them around.

Starscream looked back up at the sky, this time focusing his gaze on the wide metal ring floating above them. The ring, he knew, controlled a warp gate. As soon as they were given the okay, all of wave one (because, of course, it was more than just the three of them) would fly through it, instantly warping to the skies above Kaon. Starscream stood poised at the very bow of the ship they were standing on, mentally preparing himself. The wind blew past him, exciting him. Though he had told Skywarp to be patient, he was perhaps more eager to get into the air than anyone else. Lately he'd felt, more and more, that he needed to prove himself. Maybe because…

"Were you saying something to me, Skywarp?" Starscream suddenly asked.

Skywarp smirked. "Pay attention when I'm talking to you, Starscream," he said.

"That's Commander to you," ordered Starscream, irritably.

"Whatever," said Skywarp, shrugging and tossing his head back dismissively. "I said, 'I refuse to take anyone seriously who doesn't even have a Minicon, yet.'"

Starscream scowled at Skywarp. His own Minicon was sitting blankly on Skywarp's shoulder, looking slightly downward. That was how all Minicons always looked. They hardly ever looked up. Starscream felt himself bristle. Why did Skywarp always insist on bringing that up?

"I'll get one," Starscream snapped. "Soon. Just wait."

"Ha!" Skywarp laughed. He turned his head towards his own. "Did you hear that? 'Just wait.' Hilarious." The Minicon didn't react but simply sat silent. He turned back to Starscream, an insufferable smirk still on his face. "How long have you been Air Commander, Starscream? And you can't even get your hands on just one itty-bitty Minicon? How sad is that? They say you're the greatest, Starscream. The best slaggin' flier this planet has ever seen. But how great can you be if you can't even catch one little-?"

Before Skywarp could finish, Starscream moved so fast that he could not have even hoped to register him in time, even if he was paying attention. In a flash, Starscream had drawn the blade from his left wing and was now holding it against Skywarp's throat. It glowed red-hot against his armor.

"Do you any have any more clever comments?" Starscream asked, his voice low and dangerous. "Well?"

Skywarp looked genuinely off-put by the sight of a giant sword in his face, and turned away. "Fine," he muttered. "Fine."

Starscream sheathed his sword and stepped back into position. The crowd of Decepticons behind them were watching interestedly now, and many of them looked disappointed that a fight hadn't broken out.

"Don't know what all the fuss is about, really," said Thundercracker. "Minicons aren't all that."

"Don't patronize me, Thundercracker," Starscream growled. It was not helping matters that Thundercracker had his own Minicon as well. It was standing next to Thundercracker, right at his feet. Minicons were tiny, as per the name, and this one barely came up to Thundercracker's ankles. As it was, it looked like an insignificant toy. But the Minicons were everything. Or, at least, they had _become_ everything.

Just then, Starscream's comlink crackled again. Starscream sighed and answered it wearily. Probably just Six Shot again, telling them to stand by… "Hello?" he drawled flatly.

"Hello, Starscream."

Starscream felt a nasty jolt, as he always did when he heard that voice. Suddenly, everything, his irritation, his eagerness to fly, all of it drained out of him, replaced by only one thing, only one feeling:

"M-Megatron!" Starscream gasped. "Sir! I… I wasn't expecting…"

"Is everything ready?" Megatron answered, his voice smooth and calm.

"Yes, sir!" Starscream answered. Quickly. Fearfully. Eagerly. _Look at me…_

"Then begin." The link cut off. Static sounded in Starscream's audials.

"Yes, sir," he repeated, quieter this time. He switched off his comlink and turned to Skywarp, looking him directly in the eyes. "It's time," he said.

Skywarp's peeved expression instantly changed into a wide smirk, showing all of his teeth. He narrowed his eyes. "Excellent…" he purred.

"Yee-haw!" whooped Thundercracker, swinging his fist through the air. "We're heading out!"

"Indeed," Starscream murmured. He turned around then, facing the waiting Decepticon army. He rose into the air, his vents sighing as the deck of the ship fell away beneath him, and once again, he felt the exhilaration that always came with flying, the frenzied pulsing of his spark, the utter joy, the ecstasy… "Decepticons!" he bellowed to the waiting throng. "Transform and rise up!"

There was an instant cheer as over a thousand Decepticons complied, the whirring and clicking of their bodies as they shifted and changed almost deafening. On either side of him, Skywarp and Thundercracker also transformed into their sleek jet modes, their Minicons automatically climbing up on top of them. There was a chorus of slamming and humming of pure power as countless other Minicons did the same to their own masters, their power flowing from one to the other. More clicking as countless weapons appeared, countless powers activating, holding in place, ready…

Starscream turned and transformed himself, forgetting for the moment his lack of a Minicon. The wind blowing through his wings was enough to make him forget everything else.

"Decepticons!" he yelled again, and his voice echoed in the wind, in the stars above. "Attack!"

And they did.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

This story was born as the result of a song and a fit.

Let me explain. For years, the most pervading complaint about the Transformers: Armada series has been "those goddamn kids," as they are commonly referred as. "This series would be so much better if it weren't for those useless, stupid, annoying human brats!"

I've heard this comment for so long, and I've already made clear on my Deviantart account that that viewpoint really gets under my skin.

But one night, I was listening to a particular song on my laptop, and it made me realize something. It made me realize what canonically would have happened had their been no humans in Transformers: Armada. And once I thought about it, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

So fine. You want Transformers: Armada with no humans? Well, I'll give you Transformers: Armada with no humans. Just be careful what you wish for...


	2. Chapter 2

_Wait… Wait… Wait…_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

The Decepticons launched themselves like bullets, a thousand silver shots fired into the darkness. The ring of the warp gate glittered with the vast energy contained within, and the jets and helicopters and all other manner of flying machines zipped into it and instantly vanished into ether.

Hot Shot was not the first to see them, but he was one of the first to shout. The thousand bullets of every shape and color suddenly materialized, not a mile above the city's outer wall. They could not warp inside of the city; there was too much interference, but as close as they were, they were a danger to everyone inside. At the moment they appeared, a monstrous hum and roar expanded and tore through the air, resonating throughout the city. Some Autobots on the ground screamed. Hot Shot and a dozen others in the watch towers all radioed in at once:

"They're here."

None of the Autobots needed to be told twice. Immediately, from within the walls and towers, a dozen different voices all cried: "Fire!" A volley of glowing bolts, red and yellow, shot out of the ground. Many of them missed as their targets dived or rolled out of the way, but there were a few bangs, angry yells, and puffs of smoke as the lasers collided with the Decepticons. The Decepticons soon returned their fire, and the city was lit in a pulsing rhythm of red and purple lights.

Hot Shot stared with his mouth open, his weapon held idly in his hand. He'd heard of Decepticon invasions, of course. All his life. But he had never seen anything like this. He couldn't even imagine it. It was… It was beautiful.

"Hot Shot! Hot Shot!"

Hot Shot snapped out of his trance, and looked over in the direction of the voice. It was coming from behind him. He turned and saw Inferno, another Autobot, a long rifle in his hand. His Minicon was perched on his shoulder, apparently examining the floor. "Focus, Hot Shot!" he yelled. "What are you doing?"

Hot Shot shook his head furiously. "Sorry," he said hastily. He turned his attention back outside and fired up into the sky. He wasn't really aiming. He was too overwhelmed.

Inferno ran over and settled himself down at a window to Hot Shot's right, where no one was standing. He pointed his rifle out of the window, his eyes searching the air, an air of absolute calm over him. Unlike Hot Shot, he had seen many battles before. He was a sniper, and now he was in his element.

"What are you doing up here?" Hot Shot shouted. He had to shout. Everything was so loud.

"I was down on the second floor. I can get a much better shot up here," Inferno answered. His eyes remained on the sky, unflinching. Finally, after an apparent moment of decision, he fired his rifle. A blast rocketed from it, filling the room with smoke. It zipped straight and true up to a Decepticon's wing. There was a boom, and the wing too went up in smoke and the Decepticon dropped out of the sky like a gnat. As soon as it hit the ground, dozens more shots rained out of every window, pulverizing it into dust.

"Nice one!" yelled Hot Shot, grinning. His spark was pulsing wildly from the thrill.

Inferno nodded, searching the air for the next target. "Only one," he reminded him. "There will be more."

They kept firing as the Decepticons continued to swarm above.

* * *

><p>The Autobots <em>had<em> known they were coming. There wasn't even a second of silence before the barrage had started. Of course. Starscream cursed inwardly but took some satisfaction in the fact that Skywarp was probably more irritated than he was. The blast from the air as he flew gave him the familiar thrill, the rush that he so craved, so needed. Effortlessly, he dodged every shot that was thrown at him, forgetting for the moment to keep an eye on his wing mates.

"Hey, Starscream!" came a crackle over his comlink. It was Thundercracker. "What are we supposed to be shootin' at again?"

"Anything!" Starscream growled impatiently, firing a few rounds at the base of a skyscraper. They didn't seem to do much damage, but the Autobots on the ground had to duck out of the way. A few were hit, but remained standing, taking the blows with gritted teeth. "We have to cause as much damage as we can before the ground forces arrive!" Starscream continued. "Pay attention at the briefing next time!"

"Sorry…" Thundercracker said sheepishly.

Meanwhile, on his other side, Starscream could hear Skywarp, muttering to himself. Something along the lines of: "Just get me in there. Just get me in there. Then the fun can really start. Oh, boy… Can it ever…"

"Not yet!" Starscream snapped, still firing at the ground. "Don't try to breach them yet! They're too strong!"

"Not for long, they're not!" whooped Skywarp. He laughed and flew lower, zooming mere feet from the windows of the Autobots, flaunting, taunting them. It was an awful risk, and Starscream knew that one of these days Skywarp would get hit, but luck was on his side again, and every shot the Autobots threw at him missed.

Starscream barked at Skywarp to get into formation and he complied, too caught up in the thrill of battle to argue. The rest of the Decepticons flew haphazardly in every direction, chaotic and fierce, but the three Seekers moved in perfect synchronization with each other. The flowed and attacked and banked and flew as one ship, not three. On the ground, they bickered and fought and irritated one another, but in the air it was a different story. All three moved as one.

And the volley of shots rained upon Kaon.

The battle continued, both sides fighting ferociously, giving their all, as they always did. Neither would tire out. It was not a war of attrition but a war of power. And both sides appeared to be evenly matched. The majority of the Autobots lacked the ability of flight, but they fought valiantly, firing and firing into the busy sky, and a few even went tête-à-tête with Decepticons who found themselves shot out of the air. A few Autobots were gifted with flight, and a spectacular but severely lopsided dogfight broke out in the air above Kaon. Jetfire was among the melee, and he was hollering and laughing louder than anyone. Hot Shot, firing from his position in the tower, spotted him at one point; he was instantly recognizable from his bright white paint job. He smiled, seeing how much of a blast he was having. The Autobot Second-in-Command was quite a character and an inspiration to them all.

But unfortunately, one soldier does not make an army, and the Autobots were at a disadvantage. Though the Decepticons were outnumbered for the time being, the Autobots were for the most part confined to the ground, and they did not have nearly as much freedom to maneuver as the Decepticons did. Plus, the second wave could appear at literally any moment, and no one was sure whether the Autobots' reinforcements would be enough.

There was no shield above the city, nothing physically preventing the Decepticons from entering, from tearing it apart from the inside. But the Autobots' weaponry was powerful, and flying directly overhead would mean certain death.

However…

At a word from Starscream, Thundercracker swept around, past the other two, skirting the city's perimeter. His Minicon flipped in the air like a coin and latched onto Thundercracker's port, and the surge of energy flowed through it to him. Thundercracker felt the raw power surging throw him and let go.

A massive sonic blast came into being and expanded like a bubble. It trembled and shattered the air, reverberating through the city. Many of the Autobots standing watch covered their audials as the glass windows shattered. Static flared up in their machinery and computers as the circuits failed and screens cracked. The power of the Minicons, when linked with their masters, was astounding.

Inferno squinted against the onslaught of sound and took a well-aimed shot. It hit Thundercracker and he teetered in the air, but it was not enough to make him fall, and he swooped around again, emitting the same blast, with a magnified, devastating effect, whooping and hollering the whole way. He rolled and spun like a drill before redirecting himself, and, before the Autobots could react, he darted as straight and true as an arrow and crashed through the broken remains of a window on one of the buildings.

The Autobot inside immediately opened fire, but Thundercracker was ready. He transformed as he tumbled into the room, slamming directly into the Autobot. Before he could recover, he drew the blade from his left wing. The red glow from his wing flashed as each shot from the Autobot's blaster bounced off it, hitting the walls and ceiling and sprinkling a fine layer of dust and debris on their heads. Thundercracker's Minicon flipped onto his shoulder and began firing his own shots into the room, and more Autobots from the floor rushed to the scene. High above, Starscream's comlink rang.

"Thundercracker's in," he said to Skywarp.

"And I'm next," Skywarp responded, an audible grin in his voice. He dived, leaving Starscream floating in the air.

"I said, not yet, you idiot!" Starscream snapped. "Wait for my signal!"

"Frag me!" Skywarp laughed. He streaked towards one of the watchtowers and feinted at the last minute, laughing as he heard the yells and screams of the Autobots inside. Starscream fumed but decided there was no point in pursuing him, and turned in a wheel in the sky, still firing down on the Autobots and calculating, waiting for the right moment to make his own entrance.

The other Decepticons soon followed Thundercracker's lead. There was a chorus and symphony of breaking glass and shots and yells as they broke through. Some were successful. Some were not and were quickly shot or thrown out, their bodies limp and cracked. But the ones that succeeded and survived were enough to push more in. The Decepticons had begun to penetrate the outer wall. Skywarp continued to dive and feint, dive and feint, searching for the right moment. Unlike the others, he would not have to face the Autobots inside. All he needed was to get in, and after that…

There! An opening! A window, unguarded. Skywarp felt his excitement grow. _Get ready,_ he thought to his Minicon The Minicon obeyed, and a current of power flowed through Skywarp was he smashed through the window.

Then he vanished.

He reappeared instantly within the city's wall, among the buildings. He fired a few rounds off in the skyscrapers around him, laughing at the shouts of confusion and alarm all around him. Before the Autobots could get one shot in, he vanished again and reappeared inside a watchtower, slashing at the Autobot within before he had time to utter a yell, for this was the power that his Minicon had given him. Instead of a super-powered weapon, Skywarp had received the ability to teleport anywhere he could imagine. He could not warp into the city from outside; the interference from the towers prevented that. However, now that he was inside…

Once, he had been disappointed with the power that he had been given, wishing for something more destructive, something to make him feared. But then, he had realized all the wonderful mischief he could get into, now that he could not be caught. And he loved it.

He gave the dispatched Autobot a quick kick and looked around the room. Clipped on the far window's edge was a swivel gun, pointing down on its mount. "Check it out," Skywarp said to his Minicon, smirking. "Looks like the Autobot left a little toy for us."

The Minicon did not respond. Skywarp strolled over to the gun, grasping it by the handles on either side.

"Let's see what this baby can do," Skywarp whispered. He squeezed one optic shut and opened fire.

Skywarp had never been the best shot, but with this weapon, it didn't matter. He swung it down, and a rain of fire fell on the heads of the Autobots and the few unfortunate, grounded Decepticons below, who began to shout and duck for cover wildly in confusion and anger. Skywarp laughed again, enjoying this power he had over the Transformers on the ground. What he could not know, what the architect of this building had ensured that he could not know, was that the moment he touched it, a silent current travelled out of the gun, through the walls, and down into a control room below, where a bright red light began to flash and an alarm bell sounded, for the gun had been designed so that no Decepticon could use it. As soon as it sensed a Decepticon energy signature, it had told the security officers several floors below. And the elevators in the towers were fast.

The next thing Skywarp knew, his back had exploded with a burst of pain, and a cloud of smoke and the smell of charred metal had filled the room. Skywarp whirled around, his optics flashing angrily, and saw a pair of Autobot security officers, both of them with their weapons pointed at him. They fired again, many times, and Skywarp tried to draw his sword to block them, but the distance was too short, and he wasn't quick enough. He dropped to his knees and fell backwards against the wall. His Minicon, sensing his need, climbed back onto the port on his back.

The Autobots stopped shooting and stepped closer to him. The one in front gestured with his blaster. "Fun's over, junior," he said gruffly. "Come along."

They thought to take him prisoner. Skywarp was gasping with pain, but he grinned. No cell could hold him. Nothing could hold him.

"Catch me if you can," he whispered, and he vanished, leaving the Autobot officers to shout and stare at the spot where he'd been.

* * *

><p>Hot Shot, meanwhile, wasn't fairing much better.<p>

"Slag!" he hissed, firing haphazardly into the air. "They keep coming in! There's not enough of us!" A tremor shook the building, sending jolts up the spines of everyone within. Perhaps it was Hot Shot's imagination, but he could have sworn that their tower had been hit more than the others.

"Stay calm, Hot Shot," said Inferno. "Optimus is on his way." He spoke gently, patiently, but he was agitated too. His eyes moved quickly and restlessly over the ground, the sky. "Anyway, try to focus. Don't get overwhelmed. They might try to come in through here next."

"I hope they do," said Hot Shot, grinning. "It's about time I took on a 'Con."

Inferno did not like to betray his emotions, but a frown formed and deepened on his face. "Don't say that," he said. "This isn't a game."

"Sorry," said Hot Shot sheepishly, but he couldn't bring himself to regret what he'd said.

Hot Shot's chance, however, came soon enough.

Almost immediately, a Decepticon dropped down in front of the window as if from nowhere. The glass in the pane rattled with the wind from his descent. Hot Shot leapt backward and yelped with surprise before the same jet spiraled back up and crashed through the window, transforming as he did so. Hot Shot jumped back again and fell over onto his back, unable to do anything but stare at the intruder. He was a Seeker, by the looks of him, colored red and white. He sat for a moment, perched on the windowsill like a bird, before pulling away his left wing and drawing a sword that glowed bright red and hot with energy.

"Inferno!" Hot Shot yelled, alarmed. His bravado immediately evaporated. A real Decepticon, a real Decepticon, he was face to face with a real Decepticon. He froze up, unable to think or react or even move.

Luckily, Inferno was no rookie, and he had not waited a second. Before Hot Shot could raise himself off the floor, Inferno was standing behind him, and he fired a single blast from his rifle. The Seeker fired a dozen blasts of his own, smaller and less powerful, and the two different lasers collided and erupted in a burst of smoke and heat. Hot Shot continued to gawk, as Inferno ran over him and clubbed the Seeker over the head with the edge of the rifle. The Seeker grunted and pulled away from the window, wheeling away in the sky. Inferno fired another blast after him before turning to Hot Shot. His gaze was frank.

Hot Shot flushed, embarrassed. "Eh heh," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess I wasn't much help, was I?" He rose to his feet.

Inferno looked away from him and back outside. He was uneasy.

"Why did he leave?" he said, more to himself than to Hot Shot. "I didn't think I hit him that hard. Where is he going?"

"Hey, what can I say? He's got places to be."

Inferno and Hot Shot both whirled around. It was Skywarp, looking somewhat battered and charred, but still standing upright. He smirked down at the Autobots, enjoying their shock.

"What the-!" Inferno exclaimed. "How-?"

"You Autobots really suck at this," Skywarp laughed. He darted to where Inferno was standing, drawing his sword. It slashed sharp and hot through his chest armor, and the wound glowed and chacked with frayed circuits.

Inferno gasped and began to fall, but he had the sense to catch himself before he tumbled out and fell all twenty stories to the ground. He fell over sideways and crawled away from the window, wincing at his wound. Skywarp barked out a single harsh laugh.

"Your friend's next," he said, turning.

But before he could fulfill his promise, he felt what was by now a familiar feeling. A burst of light and color struck his chest, just below his arm, and he grunted and clenched his teeth in pain and frustration. He snapped his gaze to Hot Shot, who had come to his senses and remembered that he had a gun. Skywarp's gaze was so fierce and, it seemed to Hot Shot, powerful, that he froze up again, locked in those eyes like a bird in a snake's.

Skywarp gave a snarl and struck Hot Shot, hard in the face. "You know," he growled. "I'm really fragging sick of being shot."

"Then maybe you should head home," came Inferno's voice.

Skywarp's Minicon gave him power, great power. But, of course, Inferno had a Minicon, too. So it was not two on two but two on three. Skywarp turned and saw Inferno standing there, his wrist stretched out in front of him, his own Minicon latched onto his back. The wound on Inferno's chest continued to spark and hiss, but he paid it no mind and pointed his outstretched arm away from Hot Shot directly to the left of Skywarp.

Out of his exposed wrist a nozzle appeared, small and dark, and a solid rod of flame shot out. It flared and licked at Skywarp, and his wing caught and began to hiss and splutter on the blaze. Skywarp screamed and lunged towards Inferno, moving past the roaring fire and knocking him to the ground. Once again, Hot Shot froze, trying to comprehend what he was seeing, as the flame pointing directly at the steel floor, which began to glow and soften with the heat.

Hot Shot jumped and cringed, feeling the burning on the bottom of his feet, but he couldn't get away, for Inferno and Skywarp were blocking the way out.

"Hang on!" Inferno yelled, trying to throw off Skywarp. "Hang on, Hot Shot!"

But Hot Shot didn't respond. He was staring, wide-eyed, at the flame as if hypnotized…

Suddenly, another tremor rocked the entire tower. Ceiling tiles began to fall on all of their heads as rumble after rumble travelled up and shook them so hard their teeth chattered. The noise was deafening, and now no one in the entire building could get up off of the floor where they had fallen; everything was shaking too much.

"What's happening?" called Inferno. He shut off the flame, gasping as he tried, vainly, to rise.

Hot Shot realized that the fire was gone and his mind cleared. He crawled over to the window and peered out. He saw a dozen or more Decepticons, all of them powered by their Minicons, all of them firing on the building. On this specific building. And in the front, leading them on, was the same red and white Seeker. Hot Shot pulled out his blaster, but he knew it was no good. There were too many.

"It's the Decepticons!" he shouted to Inferno. "They're trying to level the tower!"

Inferno stared out the window, knowing it was true but unable to do anything about it. A crack formed at the base of the wall, and ran up into the ceiling, It had started from the ground. The building was beginning to split. Skywarp laughed again, harsh and derisive, and threw Inferno against the wall, away from him and away from Hot Shot.

"It's doomsday, Autobot scum!" he laughed. "Too bad you can't fly." And he drew his sword and slashed at the ground in front on the window. In front of Hot Shot.

A huge slash trailed where his sword touched the hot, soft metal, a crevice that formed and deepened at Hot Shot's feet. As the building shook, the opening widened and deepened and sent out more cracks. Hot Shot felt and heard a hideous groaning and creaking as he was thrown back against the wall by some intangible force, and, to his horror, Skywarp, Inferno, and the rest of the floor was falling up, away from him.

The building was falling. He was falling.

He screamed. Inferno screamed his name. Skywarp gave one final smirk and vanished, and he was plummeting, down, down. He felt the wall fall away behind him and he was alone. He heard screaming all around him, and he became aware that he was not the only one plummeting to the ground, but it did not matter. A few Autobots were being snatched out of the air by their flying comrades, but either no one saw Hot Shot, or they could not get to him in time because he continued to fall. He spun in the air, his head was pointing towards the ground, and as the foundation of the building crumbled and fell away, Hot Shot fell with it.

* * *

><p>Hot Shot groaned. He was in terrible pain. It was dark, unbearably dark, and he could not see anything. He groaned and shifted against the ground, which felt cold and jagged, as though he were lying on chunks of ice. As soon as he was aware, his blue optics winked on, and the static in his head cleared.<p>

Slowly, painfully, he rose to his knees and stood.

Where was he? How long had he been here? He didn't know. He looked up and almost hit his head. Gathered above him, in clusters, were a thousand pieces of debris, all cluttered and of all different sizes, packed so tightly together that he could not see anything. The debris and rubble sloped downward, toward the ground, blocking off the narrow space to one side. He seemed to be in a kind of tiny hallway, cramped and dusty. He only had one way he could go, but it was so long and so dark, he could not see where it went.

Suddenly, he remembered. He had fallen. All twenty stories. He shuddered, thanking anyone he could think of that he wasn't dead. Or wasn't he? He felt a wave of cold dread wash over him as he placed his hand to his head. There was a nasty dent there, and he lifted his hand away quickly, for it was still tender. All of his joints felt like they had been pulled out and then shoved hastily back in. He felt terrible. If he was dead, wasn't the pain supposed to go away? He looked back up. If he listened hard, he could hear distant rumbles and twangs. The battle, still raging above him.

No, he decided. He wasn't dead. He began to calm down, just a little.

"Man," he said aloud to himself. "I must be the luckiest 'Bot in the world. What are the odds I'd end up here?"

He smiled a little and stared down the dark corridor. He felt his spirits dampen. "But," he said, "Where is here?"

Like it or not, there was only one way to go. He heard a particularly loud boom up above, and he felt a small stream of dust rain on his head. He knew he had no other choice. He switched on his headlights, so that the path ahead was lit by a circle of white light and began to walk forward.

The hallway was long, but the ceiling remained low, even after he moved away from the rubble and under a ceiling that was mostly unmarred. He considered transforming but felt pieces of jagged metal and cracks in the floor and decided against it. Better to walk. As he walked, he thought of what had happened in the tower, and he felt himself burn with humiliation.

"Not a game, Hot Shot," he muttered to himself. "Huh. I should've listened. Some solider I am."

He came to the end of the hall. The path diverged at right angles into two identical halls, one on either side. He was at the intersection of a T. He turned and looked down both ways before comprehension dawned on him.

"Of course!" he said aloud. "These must be the old tunnels!"

The tunnels and catacombs under the Autobot cities. He should have known. There would be a network under Kaon. He must have somehow fallen into it when the tower collapsed.

The tunnels had been built millions of years ago, near the beginning of the war. The Autobots, knowing that so few of them possessed flight, thought of trying to gain an advantage underground. But the tunnels proved unpractical for use against a flying adversary, so they fell into disuse. Hot Shot himself had never really seen them, only learned about them during his training. It was a place to hide, intended to be used by vehicles, hence the low ceilings.

Hot Shot smiled slightly and looked around. He remembered, dimly, from his training years ago, that there would be openings somewhere in the inner city. And his navigation system told him he had been heading towards it. If he kept following the paths forward, he would probably end up there and be able to get out.

But, even underground with no obstacles, it would probably take several hours. Hot Shot sighed and turned to the left, wishing he had someone with him. Even though no one had used it for millions of years, or perhaps because no one had used it for millions of years, the place felt very creepy. He hurried on.

He was still damaged, still in a lot of pain, and as he walked, his weariness only seemed to grow. After the rush and heat of the fight up above, being down here where things were so quiet and still was like the blurry feeling in the mind after a dream. Reality no longer felt real. Hot Shot walked on, occasionally transforming and driving once the ground became more consistently smooth, but he always ended up walking again after hitting a crack and jarring his already sore body or coming to a collapse and having to either move it or turn around. As he moved on, his navigation system told him he was getting closer to the inner city, but the sounds of battle above him did not fade. This troubled him. Either his navigation system was wrong and he was going in circles, or, just as troubling, the fight had moved inward. He felt icy, hoping that that wasn't the case, but continually thinking that it was.

As he grew more weary and more stressed, he found himself dreading each end of the corridor, each turn into the next. Every turn was identical, with either a single elbow turn or that same T, and on each one, the turns were completely hidden until the last stretch of the wall had been passed. Hot Shot knew why this was. The tunnels had been built with the purpose of stealth, a place to sneak and hide away. They had been intentionally designed so that a 'Bot could hide at every turn and not be seen until it was too late. This possibility seared at his mind at every corner he came to, and he found himself getting more and more wound up, imagining a Decepticon lurking around every corner, waiting.

But of course there was no one here. There had been no one here for millions of years. Hot Shot tried to get a grip on himself. No one here. Just a long, empty path to the surface. No one…

Hang on. What was that?

Hot Shot stopped dead. He heard it again, so clearly there could be no mistake. A sort of quick, solid pattering, starting and stopping at erratic intervals. Hot Shot immediately felt every nerve in his body jump up and shudder. He wished he had his blaster. He had let go of it when he fell or perhaps it had been when he'd seen the flame dance on the floor. He couldn't remember. Anyway, he didn't have it. He was not unarmed, however. No Transformer was ever truly unarmed in this troubled age. Everyone had some sort of built in weapon. Hot Shot had a pair of blasters, one on each wrist. They were small and did not do much damage, but it was better than nothing. He drew them both and held his arms in front of him, ready.

There it was gain. It was getting quicker. Perhaps the thing had heard him. What was it? It didn't sound like footsteps, at least not like any Hot Shot had ever heard. They were too light, too quick. They were like drops of oil dripping bit by bit onto a still floor. And… were they getting quieter? Hot Shot realized that the echo was getting less pronounced, that the sound was travelling away from him. Whatever was making that noise, it wasn't pursuing him; it was going the opposite way. It was _fleeing_ him.

And then Hot Shot ran, and his fear and apprehension turned into excitement, for he had just realized what the thing was. But he had to hurry; it was getting away.

Soon the pattering vanished, replaced by a different, lower sound, a thrumming, rhythmic hum. It could fly? Hot Shot's excitement doubled, and he transformed, driving after it, not wanting to lose it.

He turned several corners at high speed, nearly wrecking on many of them, but he didn't stop or slow down, not even for an instant. And then he saw it, trapped against a wall, caught in the beam of his headlights. It had nowhere to go.

"Well, whaddya know?" Hot Shot asked, quieting his engine. "I really am the luckiest 'Bot in the world."

* * *

><p>The battle continued topside, and no one had time to take notice of Hot Shot. Not even Inferno could dwell on him for long, for half of the tower had fallen away, and the Decepticons were advancing into the outer city, and more and more Autobots were falling everywhere.<p>

And just when it seemed things couldn't get any worse, Megatron himself arrived on the scene.

Once the Decepticons had obliterated the outer wall, the second wave had been able to warp within the city's parameter. A crashing wave of ground Decepticons, tanks and diggers and the like, had streamed in, inflicting massive damage on the city and its inhabitants.

And there, in the middle, unmistakable, was Megatron, sturdy as a wall, fierce as a dagger, merciless as the steel he was made from. No Autobot could take him on, no Decepticon dared leave his side. He was invincible. It seemed the day was won.

Then: a miracle.

The second wave of Autobots arrived, having been transported by their own warp gate. They had been held up, it seemed, by a team of Decepticons that had moved to intercept him, but they were here now, and they were led by Optimus Prime, who did not hide in the midst of his troops like Megatron but was in the front, driving at the army's head, out and in the open for all of the Autobots to see. Jetfire spotted his leader, and, at a spoken command, he flew towards him, and Optimus transformed and leapt into the air to meet him, and the two combined into one. They flew up and delivered a devastating blow first to Megatron and then to the rest of the army, and when they fought alongside the rest of the coming wave, Megatron knew that victory could not be gained today.

He called a retreat, and Optimus did likewise. But by now, the outer city of Kaon belonged to the Decepticons, and so they set up base there, and the Autobots retreated into the interior, and there both factions waited, plotting their next move.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Chapter 2. I swore to myself I would get this done by today. So here it is, for your enjoyment.

There is a point to all this, as you'll discover. I'm just taking a bit of time getting there. Don't sweat.

In unrelated news, I made a PV! It's on Youtube, and it's about Starscream. Check it out if you want: .com/watch?v=MiMxdqwnGm4&list=UUSaLjvOUcE60RKuCpmayknQ&index=1&feature=plcp

More to come! Happy New Year! Peace, love, and Transformers!


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